


The Deviant Hunter

by FandomTrawler



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ), Connor is a determined boi, F/M, Interrogation, Reader assists deviants?, errrrr, idk how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-30 15:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomTrawler/pseuds/FandomTrawler
Summary: You have helped known deviants escape from a trap created by the Detroit Police - this trap was made by Connor, the infamous deviant hunter. When the police track you down and bring you to the station, he wants to know where they went and why you helped them. When you don't cooperate, how far will he go to complete his mission?...( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Welp this is my first fanfic i actually felt like publishing.  
> Hopefully you won't lose too many IQ points reading this

Your head pounded, flashing lines of streetlights scorching your eyelids as you stared out the tinted glass of the automated police cruiser.  
You didn’t know how they had found you. All you knew now was that your wrists were cuffed roughly, and you were slouching uncomfortably in a hard seat that rattled from the road vibrations. The thin fabric stapled to the chair was worn from countless criminals like you driven to the station - the seatbelt chafed and the ratty material left friction burns on the back of your legs. All this for helping some friends. It didn’t matter they were androids, that they had LEDs in their foreheads. They were your friends and you had lent them a hand getting out of a sticky situation. If the famed Deviant Hunter had caught them, they would be on their way to Cyberlife to be shut down.

You wouldn’t let that happen, over your dead body.

The car slowed, signalling you were approaching your destination. You tried to stretch, movement hampered by the belt and the cuffs, and strained against them for a moment. Your muscles groaned from being cramped up for a while. But it would be over soon - they would escort you out, interview you and you could go home without having betrayed your friends. Lying was easy for you, even though you hadn’t lied to the police before. Just as long as they don’t send the Deviant Hunter in for me, you thought, trying to be rational and seeking out all the possible ways in which your situation could spiral downhill. If he came, things would go downhill in every single way: aka you would be pretty fucked up. Nobody could lie to an android like him.  
Now you could hear muted chatter as the vehicle stopped, and footsteps through the puddles as officers moved towards it. You couldn’t see how many or if they were armed - the tinted glass only let in strong lights. In anticipation you braced for the sound of the door unlocking - it would be cold, noisy and bright outside, you surmised from the floodlights glaring dimly  
and the darkness around them.

Click.

The door opened. True to your thoughts, in rushed damp coldness that wrapped around your short-clad legs, raising goosebumps. That wasn’t the best wardrobe choice for Detroit autumn, but at least you had a jacket. The sounds weren’t too bad, just a rippling wave of voices overlapping until words and their meanings were swallowed in a tide of noise that lapped at your ears. A little like the ambience of a cosy café, yet without the clashing of cutlery on plates. Then you heard the unmistakably chilling rasp of a gun being cocked (your internal 12 year old self giggled madly) and the words 

“Get out and put your hands where we can see them”

Nervous now, you felt your seatbelt unlock and you rose slowly from the cramped seat. Your joints popped, releasing built up nitrogen, as you stretched minutely, aware of the gun trained on you. All you could hear now was the increasing galumph of your heartbeat, a throbbing sound that resonated sickly in your ears. 

“Sure,” you replied, keeping your voice calm and slightly laconic. You exited the vehicle, ignoring it when it drove off, and stretched your arms high above your head. That felt good. Your ligaments and tendons sighed in relief, the tension soothing after the long journey. Just to piss with them, though, you wiggled your fingers in a played-down version of jazz hands. The man who had commanded you to leave the car frowned, obviously disapproving of your behavior, and you threw him a fake cheery grin, just to grate on him. 

“Honey, I wouldn’t. You won’t like him when he’s angry” A new voice drawled, catching your attention. Another man was leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face. Clearly another officer. “Shuddup Gavin. No one gives a shit” The older guy grumbled, his face creasing into an exasperated scowl. He prodded you in the back with a finger, “Now get a move on”.

 

You had sat in a slightly darkened room at a desk for quite a while now. Your cuffs still ached coldly against your skin, but you ignored them, focusing instead on your completely incompetent interrogator. He was leaning towards you, earnestly urging you to confide in him the location of your friends. He reeked; an odor of stale sweat and cigarettes seeped from his pores as he tried to get you to confess. This had gone on long enough. Taking solace in the walls not being mirror glass, you adjusted your hands in the cuffs and gave him the finger. He stared at it for a long while, before his eyes met yours. With an expression of mock sorrow and real disappointment, he stood up. The chair squealed nastily on the floor like nails down a chalkboard. He flinched.

You didn’t even watch him leave the room, so certain were you of being released swiftly and returning home. All you wanted now was a plate of sodding spaghetti.

 

Dreams of warm Italian food in the next few hours were quickly dashed as the door opened for the third time. Your eyes looked up, radiating pissed-off-ness, and met with a pair of dark brown ones unlike your interrogator’s - uncompromising and flat with a machine coldness.

The Deviant Hunter

You realized that lying was now futile. A fucking android like him could detect lies, for chrissake. Yet you were uncomfortable with letting down your guard now, and you wouldn’t betray your friends if you could help it.  
You tried to ignore him as he sat in the chair abandoned by the previous man. But the room was so bare, and you instinctually needed to keep your eyes on this perceived threat.

 

As you looked at him, you realized with a plummeting sensation that it would be impossible to resist.  
He looked fucking gorgeous. Well, shit.

You swallowed, your salivary glands working overtime as your mind went temporarily blank. His face was perfectly symmetrical, his skin flawless with a smattering of freckles around his nose. Eyes open and inviting, a richer and more melodious chocolate instead of the basic brown you had previously dismissed it as. And they stared right back, perusing your soul, and whispering that there was no point lying, your friends will be safer with us, you won’t get a criminal record.  
At that you took a mental step back from your memorization - how the fuck was he making you want to tell him everything? You are not going to tell him anything. You scramble to resurrect your shield of sarcasm as a barrier between you.  
The LED whirred, changing for a split second to yellow, then, almost as if you hadn’t noticed, back to soothing blue.

“I will repeat myself. We know you assisted deviants - you don’t have to try and deny it. All we need to know is where they went. If you tell me that, you can walk free today. If not…” You jumped, unaware that he had begun talking already. An earnest expression was on his perfect face, eyes wide like an eager puppy begging to have a pat on the head.  
You blinked a few times and tried to dislodge the sense of rapture you were feeling. “My name’s Connor,” he continued, a slight smile gracing the corners of his lips, “What’s yours?” His innocent question surprised you - surely he already knew from the files. 

“(Y/n)” you replied, warmth around your ears. “But didn’t you know that?”

“I am afraid that for now I will be asking the questions, (y/n), not you.” A hard edge entered his smooth voice, showing that he was not all bark. He was bite too. 

“My apologies, detective,” you replied sweetly, “ask away” His curious eyes narrowed, analyzing your speech. Connor's LED flickered to yellow. “Where are the deviants you assisted?” He kept his tone light.  
You feigned surprise, widening your eyes and lifting your eyebrows. 

“What? Deviants? I know no deviants…” By now you knew he knew when you were lying, so you decided to be as obnoxious as possible, and hopefully stall for some ideas.  
Connor frowned now, a crease forming between his brows, and for some reason you were fascinated by it. His eyes dropped in temperature, losing the puppyish bounce. 

“Don’t be difficult, (y/n). It will just be more unpleasant” His eyes bored into yours, attempting to grasp the very information straight from your brain. You felt a blush rising on your cheeks and bit back a retort. Finding the eye contact a little too aggressive, you looked down and scanned the desk. “Are they at ‘Jericho’?” Surprised, you looked up. Damn. How did he realize? 

“Uhh…no?”  
The android set his jaw, frustration evident on his face. Then he reached over and unlocked your cuffs. Your wrists felt quick respite as the pressure released.  
What?  
You stared at him in surprise - this wasn’t how interrogations worked…

"Up” he commanded, rising from his chair and grabbing the collar of your shirt. The plastic-silica replicate skin of his right hand grazed your neck

It burned white hot.

You felt all the blood in your body rush towards that area, tingling. As you processed this in shock, Connor yanked on your shirt, pulling you from your seat and dragged you to the wall. His eyes, magnetic and flinty, attracted yours and pinned you to the brickwork. You laughed nervously, the silence worrying you more than everything else. Your breathing sounded loud in the enclosed space.

His hand was still touching your neck.

You were very aware of this.

Connor leaned closer, until you could feel his cool breath ripple your hair. If you were taller, his nose would probably have been brushing yours, but as it was, your forehead was dangerously close to his chin. In a slow, predatory movement, he inclined his head until it was at the right angle. Then, suddenly, his eyes smoldered. All the air in your lungs left in a quiet whuff - your face reddened and your toes felt on fire. “I advise that you are honest with me”. His voice had gone husky and deeper.

Oh hell.

You could tell he had noted your reaction, which was worse. He moved. Even. Closer.  
Your heart palpitated. Your palms grew sweaty. But you had to mask this under your bravado and ignore the pounding in your ears. 

“Go on,” you murmured, “ask something else”. He was purposefully trying to fluster you to get answers. Two could play at that game... 

“Why won’t you answer my qu -” You tutted and languidly placed a finger on his lips. OMIGOD THEY WERE SO SOFT - ahem. You smoldered back at him from under your lashes, blinking slowly. He paused in surprise, mouth opening slightly, LED flashing to red.

“Wrong question…”you purred, “the question is what are you going to do to make me?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the highly requested part two...  
> But it turned out too long so I split it into two chapters.   
> Enjoy!  
> ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

Connor was perplexed. He had expected you to react in fear and uncertainty from his intimidation - not to act, as his discombobulated CPU informed him, flirtatious. You smirked, an eyebrow still quirked coyly at his astonished face.  
Success  
Or not…  
He cleared his throat (shakily, you thought) and said in a slightly menacing tone 

“(Y/n, I know exactly where each and every one of your twenty-million nerve endings are. The ones that cause pain...and pleasure,” you did a double take, smirk fading. “Coincidentally, eight thousand of those lie at the tip of the clitoris, while-” a strange choking sound burst from your mouth. WHAT? Why did a detective android need to know about that? Your eyeballs bulged in suppressed laughter and surprise and your face felt uncomfortably hot. For a few moments, you stared at Connor as if he had just asked for a paperback book - incredulous and unsure about what he was inferring.   
“A lot of receptors, isn’t it? You appear surprised - were you unaware of the complexity of the neural architecture of the female genitals?”  
You coughed.

“Err,” how do you answer something like that, you mentally groaned, “I guess”. The corners of Connor’s mouth tugged upwards in a slight smile. 

“I am going to offer you a choice, (y/n). I know you will attempt to fabricate your responses, but the human mind finds it difficult to maintain concentration on unimportant things in the face of extreme neural stimulation. Simplified, you will not be able to think hard enough to lie”. Surely, you thought, this was illegal? Then it hit you - why had he mentioned the clit? Your heart plummeted. Swallowing, you thought of the bright side to the situation: getting touched up by an inhumanly attractive android…

“Your choice is this: either distort the truth and experience uncomfortable and painful sensations, or be honest and receive more pleasant feelings. Either way, you will tell the truth.” His remaining friendly facade split open to reveal a calculated shark. Those dark eyes glimmered with hoarfrost like derelict wells, their deepness sucking you down their cocoa-hued tunnels. You felt your lips unconsciously part, your pupils dilated, tingles rushed your spine. Connor’s face, waiting expectantly for an answer, was all your starving eyes could take in, turning your surroundings dark and invisible.  
You passed your tongue over your lips. Unnoticed by you, his eyes tracked the movement, lingering slightly. Then back to your (e/c) orbs. 

“I - uh, pleasure?” Your mind cringed at the truncated statement, wishing for a sinkhole to miraculously appear in Detroit beneath your trembling feet.  
The android gave you a half-smile 

“You have picked the most logical option - now please seat yourself at the desk”. He gestured with his hand towards the piece of furniture.  
Without thinking, you pushed off the wall to move past him, making a beeline for the table. Your wet shoes squeaked shrilly on the floor, feet slithering in sodden socks. Once you’d crossed the five-stride distance you pivoted (squeak, squeak) to face Connor.   
You narrowed your eyes at his expression - he didn’t seem like the cool capable killer that had entered the room. If anything, you would have said he looked awkward.  
His cheekbones were blue-tinged; his soft eyes on the floor, and a tiny frown lowered his chiselled brows.  
Then he looked up; and all hesitancy was gone. Yet, you noticed his eyes regarded you kindly, like a benevolent father.  
Oh dear.  
Did you really have to think that? You bit your cheek, hoping fervently that the word ‘daddy’ wouldn’t slip from your lips later on.

“Stay still,” his warm voice alerted you to his presence like a bugle - it dropped in pitch and volume as Connor neared you. Your heart accelerated, forcing more blood around your singing circulatory system.  
When you looked up, he was standing very close to you. Almost too close. You smiled to mask your turbulent emotions - but that smile suddenly froze when you felt a pair of smooth hands undoing the button on your shorts. His hands worked with dexterousness, nimbly slotting it out of its hole.  
All your mind could think was ‘aaaaaa’.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Lost in your wide-eyed reverie, you barely heard the muted rasp of a zipper being slowly forced downwards. You swallowed, looking down at Connor’s hands, then your eyes shifted to his face, drawn to the curious expression. His eyes met yours, and swallowed them whole.  
You couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t - 

A breeze flowed across the skin of your inner thighs as those agile hands slid your distressed denim shorts down past the slight curve of your legs. It made a quiet thud as it hit the floor, closely followed by the soft sound of your underwear doing the same. With his eyes still glued to yours, Connor began walking forwards, closer and closer until his rock-solid chest collided with yours, forcing you back until you felt the chill metal of the table dig into your hamstrings.  
You could taste the peculiar aroma of his breath - light, yet masculine - and the mere touch of his jacket against your leg alone was speeding up your breaths.

“Sit,” he commanded, “it will be more comfortable”  
You caught his eyes looking downwards, LED spinning gold.  
Clearing your throat, you said “More comfortable for you, or me?”

“You, of course. I don’t feel things.”  
With that answer, you bounced on your tiptoes and slid your ass onto the cold surface, legs dangling.

“Go on then - complete your mission,” you whispered, and then blushed. You hadn’t meant to sound quite that thirsty.

“As you wish (y/n)”. You closed your eyes, letting his calm words envelop you, bracing for impact. You stayed this way for a while, trying to ignore the gently puffs of breath on your face and the sensation like your stomach had decided, for no reason at all, to dance the conga around your chest cavity. Eventually you felt your heartbeat begin to regulate, but slowly.   
Then that effort war squashed as you felt a smooth yet unstoppable thumb begin to move in a perfect circle on your clit.

Your eyes snapped open.

All the breath left your body in a strange whine as your as your back curved inwards, spine stiffening.  
The tiny circle Connor was tracing became maddening - you wanted more! In restraint you bit your lip, tasting blood, jaws clenching at every slight pulse of the thumb.  
Thinking was impossible. It felt as if your brain cells were melting under Connor’s touch, leaving a head stripped of logic and reasoning.   
Growing in desperation you tilted your head back to plead with your eyes at the android that had you at the mercy of his mechanical thumb. If it was possible, your heart beat faster once you made eye contact with him. Unable to think, you growled softly, the feline sound escaping your lips like a rogue criminal. So far gone were you that you missed Connor’s reaction to the noise you had uttered.   
His eyes squeezed narrower, lips parting, and he swayed his torso a little closer to you, rocking on the balls of his feet. Inadvertently, this drove his thumb harder against you, circle never faltering.  
Your breath stuttered, catching in your throat.

“Now,” he breathed quietly, “where are the deviants?” Each syllable was punctuated by a pulse with his thumb. The part of your brain that was slowly dripping away registered worry and pointed this out to the rest of you.

“N...no!” You managed to choke out. Suddenly, the circle ceased.  
Connor leaned in until his forehead brushed yours, “remember what I said earlier about pain?”  
You breathed heavier, feeling cold without his thumb pressing into you. There was a tone of mild anger in his voice now, and strangely, this turned you on more than anything else.  
Like a stroke of lightning, blinding pain flashed through you, obliterating sense. You shifted your agonised pelvis, trying to alleviate the horrendous sensation. He was twisting your labia!

“Mnhh” you grunted, your entire being shrieking out in an odd mix of agony and arousal, hands fisted up.  
Then it was over.  
Well, fuck, you thought.  
Your eyes met Connor’s shakily, shocked by the nasty feeling. His eyes seemed darker, his breathing sounded a little harder.  
LED red like sin.  
Any semblance of reasoning left you as your reeling mind feasted upon his face. It was hardly fair, designing a detective android to look smoking hot - all the interrogatees would be falling over themselves to give him answers.  
Including you.   
The metal of the table had warmed up to your temperature - the smooth and unyieldingness seemed comforting in your mental state - aka jelly.

Connor resumed the circles almost as if nothing had happened, face serene yet dangerous. Every now and then his thumbnail would catch the flesh, extracting a shudder of breath from you.

“Where are they?”   
His voice echoed around your head - there was barely enough in it to decipher his question, so entranced you were by the rhythmic feeling.

"Mh,” you moaned quietly, attempting to mask your complete meltdown.  
The thumb slid out slowly, changing tack.  
Then it plunged deep inside you.  
A wild cry burst from your lips. Pure ecstasy ran through your veins, spurring on your galloping heart, and throbbing in your crotch.   
You didn’t miss Connor’s expression, though - the darkness underneath his chiselled cheekbones grew, and an almost hungry look appeared in them. A small moan slipped from his parted lips, and he quickly clamped them shut. Connor’s moan sent all the synapses in your brain on fire and you bucked your hips against his thumb. He thrust his hand back and forth, digging inside you, and your toes curled in utmost pleasure.

“C-Connor...” you moaned breathlessly. His starving eyes devoured you. “They’re at Jericho”  
His thumb gave one last surge, and you rode it like a rodeo cowgirl, your whole body thrilling in pure adrenaline.

"Daddy,” you sighed, then moaned, brain imploding.  
Carefully, Connor retracted his thumb - but this time you felt absolutely fine with that, not cold or needing more.  
Your body relaxed, muscles limp, and you slumped forwards onto the android’s hard chest. You felt, with a small shiver of pleasure, his arms encircle you, supporting your weight. Both your breaths sounded rough and loud in the room, which span dizzily around you. You could smell sweat, saline and warm.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Connor murmured, a smile curving his lips. His eyes shone, beacons of black light illuminating your path. You didn’t reply, just breathed.  
His muscles tensing, he gently lifted you up off the table - you relished the touch of his cool hands on the bare flesh of your hips - and set you on your suddenly unstable feet. With a jolt, the room lurched: one of your knees had buckled, exhausted.   
Slightly in awe, you tilted your head to one side.   
Connor looked how you felt - dishevelled shirt and tie, wide eyes tired yet satisfied, face flushed (only in his case, it was blue instead of red).  
Also, he was still staring at you.  
This felt a teensy bit uncomfortable.

Y’know.

You looked down and quickly picked up your clothes, slipping them on. As you buttoned your shorts, you saw Connor smooth his shirt and adjust his tie, flexing his strong shoulders while he was at it. By the time he had finished, his face was as composed as it had been as he entered the room, LED a calm blue.  
Which, by the way, you realised, was quickly becoming your favourite colour.  
Self-consciously, you patted down your hair, which had built up a halo of frizz, and hooked a finger in your bra strap that had fallen down without you realizing. The material felt rough to your fingertips compared to the rich silk of Connor’s skin. 

As the pair of you left the room, neither noticed the subtly winking light that hovered above the black lens of the surveillance camera…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading it! Now onto the part 2 of part 2!...


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART 2: PART 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you made it this far! Just a little longer to go...  
> Shoutout to KamiOGami for suggesting this idea in the comments!

The cold stung your skin teasingly like a kitten’s claws as you ambled back through the desolated car park. Snow had begun to fall, gilding your (h/c) hair like white diamonds. This late at night, the police station was dark, a hulking behemoth hiding it’s secrets within.  
And what secrets they were!  
A wide grin stretched across your face, turned pink by the stinging chill and buffeting wind. With a satisfying crunch, you skipped a few strides, serenaded by the hooting and growling of traffic. The pavement glittered crystalline and incandescent. Like floating stars, streetlights glowed though the tossed white flurries.  
Screw spaghetti, you thought, I need to break the law more often!  
As you walked off, mind radiant with contentedness, the whirling snow hid the improbably scene playing out behind you…

***

“What do you mean, it was the most logical thing to do ?” shouted Hank, torn between laughter and desperation. His strongly expulsed breath was misty in the cold. “Never mind the deviants, the fuckin’ FBI will be on our case! Shit!...” He buried his head in his gloved hands, gray hair trembling in agitation and incredulousness.  
Connor looked at him in confusion - why was Hank displeased he had answers? An expression similar to a kicked puppy emerged on his face.

“But Lieutenant, it worked-”

“I don’t give a shit if it worked, Connor! You can’t do that! And don’t gimme that face,” he growled, infuriated, “Jeez, I think imma puke…”. Hank staggered off towards a bush, a look of suppressed nausea on his face. Soon after, loud retching noises broke what was left of the dubious night calm. Connor frowned, expressing concern for the piece of vegetation that was being coated in alcoholic bile, and went to follow Hank but Gavin pulled him back. The force of Gavin was so strong Connor spun around, squishing the snowflakes around his feet into grey slush. 

“Never knew a plastic prick without a prick could get a girl off like that,” he smirked, “We were watching - next time, for Hank’s sake, switch off the fucking CCTV. God! Brain the size of a planet and you can’t even do that! ”

“Detective Reed, my ‘brain’ as you called it is not actually th-”

“I was making a fucking reference!” Gavin snarled, eyes flashing. Connor raised his hands in a supplicatory gesture, edging backwards. Gavin merely sneered, amusement still clear on his face.

Connor’s chocolate brown eyes began to blink sporadically, LED yellow and whirling…

/UPDATING…/

/…/

/100%/

/MISSION COMPLETE/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much! It kinda means quite a lot for you guys to read this, and comment and kudos and whatever. So, cheers. Have a nice day!


End file.
